


Overreaction

by shirozora



Category: House M.D., Political RPF - US 21st c., Politician RPF
Genre: Gen, memories of rahmbamarama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-20
Updated: 2010-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-06 12:23:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirozora/pseuds/shirozora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every other doctor in his position would feel privileged to treat such a patient.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overreaction

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
> 
> This is an old story I wrote on a whim for RBR, back in its heyday. If anyone appears to be OOC, I apologize sincerely. I haven't seen _House_ in months and, well, sometimes it's just damn hard to nail down a real person's character.

"I don't _care_ if he's Joe the Cellist or the President of the United States, _especially_ if that's your codename for your secret plaything. I'm not going to treat him. Get some other doctor to do it-"

"Look, you fucknut. I came to you specifically because you're the best in the whole fucking country. Either you treat him or I will fucking _end_ you in one fucking millisecond."

Dr. House stopped in his tracks, turned around, and cocked his head to the side. "'End you?' _Seriously_? And how are you going to do that?"

The man's eyes flashed as he shoved the x-rays in House's face. "Just take a goddamn look."

One glance and House was rolling his eyes. Swearing a silent oath at Hippocrates, he pushed the x-rays away. "It's just a _fracture_. Find some other doctor to stick him in a cast for a few months; he'll be good as new. Now will you leave me alone? I've got a life to save."

He hobbled of, relieved when the short man didn't follow him.

* * *

He glared at the White House Chief of Staff while making a show out of listening to the President of the United States' lungs.

The man didn't have a fractured arm.

Rahm Emanuel sat on the edge of the lacquered desk, arms crossed and looking ungraciously _smug_. House itched to whack it off with his cane, but with the Secret Service surrounding them it wasn't going to happen. He glanced at the President's young assistant, who stood off to the side desperately trying to hide the grin on his face.

He hated it. He was supposed to be the one with all the power, not them.

He yanked the stethoscope off his head and said, "It's just a common cold. Can I go now?"

Rahm raised an eyebrow. House gripped his cane tightly, his mouth drawing into a pencil-thin line. Awkward, intense seconds ticked by, and then the doctor rolled his eyes and glanced over his shoulder at the bemused president. "It's not the swine flu, not the avian flu, not any flu, not a salmonella infection, not food poisoning, definitely not lupus, not an STD, not cancer-"

The president raised his hand and House was suddenly compelled to shut up. "So it's just a cold."

House snuck a glance at Rahm, who raised both eyebrows. "Yes, Mr. President. Cough medicine, tea, plenty of rest, stop smoking, stay warm, I'm leaving, try and stop me."

He made his best impression of storming out of the Oval Office while relying on a cane.

Never again.

* * *

Rahm gestured to the Secret Service, who dashed off after the wildly hobbling doctor. As they filed out of the door Barack gestured to Eugene, saying, "Check if there's anything waiting for me."

Eugene nodded and exited through the other door as Rahm turned around and strode up to the Resolute desk. Barack looked at his Chief of Staff for an explanation; the man opened his mouth but promptly shut it as the president muffled a coughing fit.

"…I hate winters here," Barack muttered as he wiped his mouth.

"Says the man from Chicago," Rahm said as he tugged his handkerchief out of his suit pocket and handed it to the president. "It's really not that bad. You're just saying it because you're sick."

Barack ignored him. Instead he gestured with his head to the door the doctor had hobbled through. "Why him?"

"Because he's the best doctor in the entire country, and he wasn't too far away. President or not, you deserve the best."

A very real look of surprise crossed his face and Barack stammered, quite touched, "Well, I, uh, well, thanks for the thought, but really it was-it was just a cold. You didn't need to go looking for the best-"

"Because he said he wanted to fuck with Zeke for being his oncologist lover's 'fuck buddy' back in the day. But I'm sure we've reached an understanding."

Barack wanted to cover his face with his hands; instead he sneezed into the handkerchief as Eugene stuck his head into the office and said that Robert and Ellen wanted to see him, ending the discussion.


End file.
